


threads of the past

by malafelis



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22121086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malafelis/pseuds/malafelis
Summary: "a thirteen headcanon: while searching for an outfit she finds some of her old companions' clothes and tries them on/considers it"
Kudos: 10





	threads of the past

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prompt i filled waaay back in 2017 right after 13 was announced, and it is also the first thing i've posted here to ao3!   
> i'm always down for more prompts, hit me up at whoify.tumblr.com :^)

She wandered through the vast corridors of the TARDIS closets, stroking a sleeve here, a collar there. Finding a coat that was too broad in the shoulders, or trousers that’d have to be pulled up to her armpits. This was the first irritating thing she’d encountered about this regeneration, and it was very annoying indeed: Here she’d been all excited about this new change, and her expansive wardrobe wanted only to work against her.

She turned the corner into a little alcove— this was new, she hadn’t been down this way yet. Some of these clothes looked a little more tailored for her current height— the hangers were at eye level, at least. There was something familiar about them too… She reached out a hand, barely visible under the unbuttoned sleeve of her previous self, and ran it across the material of a loose pair of jeans. A sad smile twitched at her lips: Rose might’ve gotten away with those in 2005, but she couldn’t imagine being spared second glances if she chanced them in public now. There were other things here she recognized too— a scarf of Amy’s, still faintly scented with her perfume; a simple flowery dress with a belt, which appeared to have belonged to someone of even shorter height than herself; a bomber jacket covered in patches, now that was quite cool. A dusty hat on a shelf caught her eye, and her hearts twinged: She had seen that hat before, on the cover of a certain detective novel that always found its way back to her pockets…

She left this section of the wardrobe empty handed as well, for she could not bring herself to don the clothes of her dead or missing companions. Her hearts weighing in her chest slightly heavier than before, she started off through the hallways again. Casting her eyes here and there, her attention was caught by a long tan coat that wasn’t as large as its surrounding garments. Now, that could be interesting…


End file.
